Iuga Sortis II

Fifteen

He'd been trying to make eye contact with her all morning, but she was proving exceedingly ornery. It was Christmas morning, and the four of them were downstairs in the Great Hall, though it was not so great with a total of ten people from the school remaining over holiday. Many parents took advantage of the lack of Dark activity and summoned their children home. Gryffindor had the most of any house with four, and the other three had two each. He was mildly glad Malfoy went home, if only for not having to see his face, but also Ron's ever-growing desire to kill the ferret. As it was, Harry didn't fancy one of his best friends in Azkaban, but Malfoy wasn't his concern at the moment.

C'mon, Nia . . . look at me . . .

An elbow hit his side, and he opened his mouth to protest.

That was until he stared in the brown eyes of a certain redhead.

"Ginny." His tone was soft, and she rolled her eyes.

"Why don't you go down there and talk to her? You know you want to," she said knowingly.

Harry glanced down at the table. He'd never seen Nia look more miserable.

"Are you going to tell her about your dream?"

She shook her head. "Yeah, right, Harry. 'Happy Christmas, Nia! I saw your mother get raped! How? She was me!' Not necessarily a bearing of good tidings."

Harry chuckled a bit. "I just want to see her smile, Gin. It's been so long . . ."

Ginny looked confused. "Smile?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, she gets these dimples that are absolutely adorable. I want to see them again . . ."

"Really . . ."

Harry internally groaned. Ginny's voice affected the tone Lavender and Parvati got when they had a particularly juicy piece of gossip. And as much as he liked Ginny, it was still annoying coming from her as well.

"What does that 'really' mean, Gin?"

She looked highly smug, and warning bells went off in his head. "Nothing . . ."

He knew she was lying, and he knew she knew he knew she was lying. He sighed.

"Ginny, ever since we began training, you've been acting weird, especially about Nia and me. Do you know something?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

Harry looked at her pointedly. "You know very well what I mean. First you're giving Nia and me lovey dovey looks which, I must admit, make us rather uncomfortable, then you're spouting scarlet beams out your hands, and then you have that rather horrific 'nightmare' which saw Nia's mother being . . . y'know . . . what happened to you?"

"Are you still having the dreams?"

He frowned. "I haven't had a dream about Voldemort in a while, actually. I'm rather concerned."

She looked mildly concerned as well but shook her head. "No, not those dreams. The dreams with you as Apedemak."

His frowned deepened. "What do you know about that?"

"Why else do you think I can shoot scarlet light from my hands, Harry?"

His face mirrored his confusion before his eyes widened in comprehension.

"You mean--you . . . her . . .ME?!"

Ginny giggled at his incredulous exclamation. "Yes, you. Mr. Potter, not only are you the Boy Who Lived, you're also a lion-headed god. No wonder you're a Gryffindor!"

He rolled his eyes at her corniness but couldn't help but think it all made sense.

"Does that mean . . ."

His eyes watched as Nia left the table, her shoulders slumped and sadness radiating from her person.

"Why don't you go follow her? The only other person in Slytherin is that seventh year, and she can't stop sucking face with her Ravenclaw boyfriend at the moment."

He chuckled at her observation. "You think Ron and Hermione'll mind?"

Both took a glance at the couple. They were so into each other they threatened to become the Ravenclaw/Slytherin couple soon.

"I'll sacrifice myself for you this time, Harry."

"Why don't you go? You're her best friend!"

"And you're her training partner. I've seen you two in action; you have an unspoken rhythm with each other. You don't hate each other nearly as much as you'd like to think. Besides, you may earn a smile."

"Or a slap," he said dryly.

"You're a Gryffindor, aren't you? Surely a little slap from a little third year won't make you go screaming to the hills."

He gave her a sardonic look. "You've never been slapped by her before. I'll bet if you ask Malfoy, he'll say the same thing."

She grinned cheekily. "You and Draco agreeing on something? There's a first."

"Draco? Did I just hear that ferret's first name?!"

Ginny groaned and rolled her eyes, and Harry laughed. "Better be careful, Gin."

"Since when did we use the ferret's first name, Gin? He's a bloody Death Eater in training!"

"I will not have this discussion with you again, Ronald, so bugger off!"

Leave now! she mouthed to Harry.

"I'm--"

Ginny shook her head frantically, shooing him out the door. He smiled in comprehension. If Harry announced he was leaving, then Ron and Hermione would want to follow.

He wanted to talk to Nia alone.

As it was, she was probably long gone by now.

He sighed and left the Great Hall anyway, hoping to catch up with her. He figured the best bet would be to go to the dungeons, but seeing as he did not know the password, the trip would be a waste. He turned the corner but immediately went behind it again. She was standing there, talking to Professor Snape.

Harry's lip curled in hatred. It was the bastard's fault Nia wasn't happy in the first place.

"Nia . . ." Severus began.

She made no reply.

There was shuffling before Snape spoke again. "Your sister will be coming by later in the day to spend Christmas with you."

Harry peered around the corner to see her nodding. Snape gave a curt nod and began to walk around her. Nia's hand shot out to stay him. The look of shock on Snape's face mirrored Harry's.

"Nia?"

"Merry Christmas," she said softly.

This was the first time Harry had ever seen Snape close to crying. The older man turned to face her and rubbed his thumb against her cheek.

"Happy Christmas, love."

She gave Snape a small smile and began walking again. Harry was so focused on her he jumped at the sound of a throat clearing.

Snape raised an amused eyebrow at him. "Isn't she a bit on the young side?"

Harry glared at him. "I don't know what you mean, Professor."

Snape seemed unimpressed by his slight, and it only served to infuriate Harry more. "Regardless, you'll figure it out soon enough. As it is, things have been set into motion even Dumbledore cannot stop."

"You mean like with you and Nia's mother?"

It was Snape's turn to look infuriated. "Potter--"

"I know what happened, Professor. I know what you did . . ."

"You know nothing! You have no idea how convoluted this situation is!" Snape snarled. Suddenly the older man gripped his left arm in pain, and Harry instinctively knew Voldemort was calling. Harry tensed in reaction, and Snape laughed sardonically.

"Don't worry, Potter, for once he's not concerned about you."

If anything, he became more agitated. "Nia--"

"Is going to the dungeons, the Potions classroom. If you hurry, you can catch up with her." Snape brushed past him and turned another corner. He wondered why Snape would tell him--

Bloody Legilimens.

He waited a few seconds before going after Nia. She was about to go down the stairs to the dungeons when he opened his mouth to call to her. She stopped suddenly. So did he.

"How long have you been followin' me?"

His jaw dropped. "What?"

She snickered and turned to face him. It wasn't a smile, but it wasn't a scowl either.

It's a start . . .

"I've felt you here since I talked with--"

"Snape," he finished for her, seeing her internal struggle with what to call him.

"Yeah."

"How are you feeling?"

She chuckled, but there was no mirth. "Honestly? Like crap. But that's to be expected, no?"

"Nia . . ."

She held up her hand and shook her head. "Whatever you're about to say, spare me."

"But I was going to apolo--"

"You can't apologize for something that's not your fault."

"But if I hadn't told you--"

"Sooner or later that cat would've come out the bag."

"That doesn't mean I had to open it," he muttered.

The chuckle transformed into a giggle, and the dimples made a long-awaited appearance.

Score!

"I make you laugh now, do I?"

"That comment just tickled me," she replied, covering her mouth with her hand.

Hand over mouth? That's no good . . .

He walked up to her and moved the hand away, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Why did you do that?" she breathed.

He gave her a lopsided smile. "It's been a while since I last saw you smile, Nia. I've missed it."

She smirked. "Hard to smile when there's nothing to smile about."

He sighed. "I know. Ever since my godfather died, I've been in a funk. But my friends have helped me a lot."

She squeezed his hand, and it was then he realized he'd been absently rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. He blushed, and she giggled again.

"You wear your emotions on your face, Potter."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Could be, perhaps Grandma will let us play poker . . . practice your bluffing . . ."

"Poker?"

"Yes, card game, gamble money, try to win it, usually means you'll trick other people to folding so you can get it . . ."

"Sounds right up a Slytherin's alley."

"Yes, which is why I suggested we play it. A sista could use a lil' extra income . . ."

He chuckled, and she smiled.

"Any particular reason why you're here though?"

He felt the heat creep up his cheeks again but was more successful at stamping it down. "I wanted to talk to you . . . a-about uh, the extra lessons."

"You also make a horrible liar. Maybe you need to hang with Draco more."

"I'd rather eat cow dung."

"Whatever floats your boat, but blech."

"It's not as if I'm not spending time with the ferret as it is right now."

"And his girlfriend."

"Are you trying to make me angry?"

She grinned. "You're cute when you're angry."

He snorted. "You're not. You make me fear for my life!"

"As you should."

"You almost hacked off my arm the other day! If it wasn't for Ginny . . ." His voice trailed as her hand went to his left bicep, the place where her weapon slashed him. She squeezed it gently, staring at it before looking into his eyes.

"Do you want to know why I was shaking?" she asked lowly.

"Perhaps because you cut me . . ."

She grinned and nodded. "Yes . . ." She looked behind him. "Can we take this conversation downstairs?"

She didn't wait for a reply as she led them down to the dungeons. They entered the Potions classroom and sat down at an end table near the door. She looked towards the head of the class, and he studied her profile. Her face had lost some of its baby-ness, partly due to her getting older but most of it from training. She was not as rotund as she was, but she did gain muscle mass.

She would be beautiful when she got older.

He shook his head and frowned, trying to get his mind back on track.

"Was that the only reason you were shaking?"

She tilted her head towards him. "I felt it."

Confusion settled on his face. "Felt what?"

She smiled softly. "The gash. It hurt somethin' awful."

"You felt my injury?"

She turned to him fully and nodded. "It freaked me out, Potter. That junk hurt, for one, but for me to feel a sensation you were feeling really unsettled me."

"Maybe you were just imagining it . . ."

"So you mean after Ginny healed your arm then the stinging in my arm went away because she healed it?"

"Yes."

She looked at him incredulously. "Right. Speaking of freaky . . . what was that?"

Harry turned red, though he didn't know why. "Uh, remember when we researched the gods last Easter holiday?"

"Yes?"

He exhaled deeply. "Gin seems to think we're those gods."

She looked at him blankly before she started to giggle.

"Do you think I'm lying?" he asked, a little bit hurt and annoyed.

She shook her head. "No! I'm laughing because it's so way out of left field it has to be true! How else do you explain what she did . . . what I did . . ."

"Yeah," he said slowly.

"I mean, why else would we be able to feel each other's pain, right? That I could feel your presence? We're gods; makes perfect sense."

He gave her a cautious look. "So are you . . . okay with this . . .?"

She gave a sarcastic bark of laughter. "Not like I have much of a choice! This must be why they said Set the other day . . ."

Her face clouded over, and he knew she was referring to the day she found out about Snape.

Insufferable prick.

She looked at him curiously. "What's got you so mad?"

His hand was squeezed again, and he blushed.

They were still holding hands.

"Nothing."

She grinned at him and let go of his hand. Harry keenly felt the loss.

"I didn't mind that so much," he blurted.

"Getting mad?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Holding your hand. Now I'm cold."

"Body heat from a hand will hardly keep you warm enough," she said dryly.

"If it's your hand, it will."

She sucked in a breath and turned her eyes to the head of the class. He smirked.

"So . . ." she began after a while. "You're implying you're Apedemak, since when you dream you dream of him. Does this mean I'm Isis?"

"Seems that way."

"Which means if we're training with Draco and Ginny, they're gods as well. Logic reasons Ginny is Nephthys and Draco is Osiris. Makes sense if you think about it."

He looked aghast. "How the bloody hell is Malfoy a good god?!"

Nia rolled her eyes. "If you don't understand by now this thing is bigger than you and Draco and some silly little House rivalry, then maybe we need to find a new Apedemak."

"Sorry, love, you're stuck with this one."

"God help us all . . ."

He laughed shortly, and the pair fell into silence. Nia laid her head on the desk, and Harry leaned back in his chair, keeping a hand on the table before him just in case the chair fell over.

"I'm worried about him," she said after awhile.

"Malfoy?"

She nodded. "And Sn--Daddy."

Harry set all legs on his chair on the floor again. He knew it was a big step to call him that again, and he rubbed her shoulder in comfort.

"Why?"

"I know he's a double agent for the Order; there's no other explanation for him to still be a Death Eater and be one of Dumbledore's most trusted allies. And I also know whatever happened between him and my mother during that Dark whatever had to have been for the Order . . ."

Harry was skeptical. "Why do you think that?"

She sighed. "In the hall . . . just now . . . that was the closest I let him get to me all term, and I saw his eyes, and I felt his emotions. He loves me, and as hard as I tried to hate him, I couldn't. I've been sad, and that's because he wasn't there. I figure if Mama could forgive him and love him, then who am I to judge?"

He smiled a bit. "You sure are wise."

She giggled. "Angie said the same thing to me not too long ago. It's not wise; it's common sense. Grandma, if nothing else, has made me recognize the value of common sense."

"I'll admit; I like her as a DADA professor."

"I'm glad for you."

He laughed. "You don't?"

She shrugged. "It's just . . . weird having her there all the time, looking at me and expecting more things, and having her be my grandma. I feel like I'm under constant pressure. I just wanna be left alone sometimes . . ."

"Welcome to my world," he said dryly.

"Ugh, I feel for you, man."

"Now it's worse. Do you think this is the reason Voldemort's left me alone?"

She shrugged again. "You're asking the wrong person. Dumbledore may know . . ."

"After the revelations he's given you thus far, I think I'll steer clear of the headmaster right now."

She grinned at him. "Smart move, Potter. Unfortunately I don't have that luxury . . ."

"Yeah, Snape."

"Him, and Grandma, and--" A bark stopped her listing. He knew that bark.

Harry's heart stopped beating.

"What was that?"

She frowned at Harry's strangled question. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine!"

"You don't sound fine. You sound like you're choking . . ."

"No, really! Just, just what was that?"

"It's a dog--"

"Black?"

She nodded. "Yeah! How do you know what color it is?"

"Where is he?"

Her face mirrored her confusion. "I don't think I should--"

"I don't bloody care what you think! Where is he?"

She became angry. "Don't you cuss at me!"

"I can--" He stopped speaking and took a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry, Nia. Could you please tell me where he is?"

Nia narrowed her eyes. "If I do, you can't tell anyone--not even your two friends."

"I promise I won't tell Ron and Hermione."

She looked skeptical. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because I'm not a Slytherin."

Her eyes flashed but seemed to let the comment slide. "Wait outside."

"What?"

She glared at him. "Look, we either do this my way or no way."

He groaned but did as he was told. Nia closed the door behind him, and he became more agitated.

If that dog is who I think it is . . . I'll kill him . . .

How dare he be alive all this time and not contact him! He thought briefly he should've tried the mirror again, but after that time at Ron's house, he became depressed and swore never to use it again.

So much for keeping oaths . . .

"You can come in now!"

Harry opened the door carefully. Standing beside the desk was a crouched Nia, cooing and scratching the head of a very familiar black dog. He stopped a good distance away from them.

"Snuffles," he said flatly.

The dog left Nia's arms and walked up to Harry. A gamut of emotions ran through him as the dog transformed into his supposed dead godfather. Nia let out a yelp in surprise, and a corner of Sirius' mouth lifted. Neither man said anything for a bit until Sirius broke into a small, hesitant smile.

"Hullo, Harry."

~~~~~~~

His mother looked at him with sad, resigned eyes, and he offered an upturned corner of his mouth to her. He knew she was worried, and he tried to set her mind at ease.

He'd have better luck making water freeze in hell.

As such, that was where he was now--his father's study--with the grotesque form of the Dark Lord and his whimpering sidekick, Pettigrew.

"Draco!"

He jumped then cursed himself for the action. His father sneered at him.

"Pathetic, you are. I can't believe I thought you ready for the Dark Lord's illustrious army . . ."

Draco said nothing.

"Don't be so hard on the boy, Lucius. I remember you doing the same when you first met me . . ."

Lucius looked extremely uncomfortable, and Draco smiled internally. He glanced his mother's way and saw she wore a self-satisfied smirk.

"Yes, my lord," Lucius muttered.

Voldemort walked towards Draco, hands behind back at leisure. Draco kept his eyes ahead of him as the Dark Lord inspected him closely.

"Very nice, strapping young man," Voldemort said. The compliment sounded silly to Draco's ears, and he bit his tongue to keep from laughing out loud.

"Thank you, my lord."

Voldemort smirked. "He's perfect for the role."

Draco's heartbeat slowed.

Role?

"Thank you, my lord."

"Let's hope the younger Malfoy will have better luck getting Miss Weasley than you did," Voldemort said.

The Dark Lord, two. Lucius, zero.

Getting Miss Weasley?

Draco began to feel anxious.

"It was that insufferable Potter's fault--"

"Yes! We know it was Potter's fault!" Voldemort spat. "But that is beside the point! You let a twelve year old boy beat you!"

As if he has any leeway to speak.

"If I am not mistaken, my lord, Harry Potter beat you when he was but a babe," Pettigrew said, sickeningly sweet.

Draco drew blood from his tongue so great was the pressure of his teeth.

Pettigrew, one. Dark Lord, two. Lucius, zero.

Voldemort whirled towards the mousy man with his wand raised. Pettigrew merely lifted an eyebrow.

"Put the wand away, my lord. You need me, remember?"

Voldemort seemed to hesitate before complying. The look on Lucius's face was one of disbelief and envy.

Even Peter Pettigrew gets to boss Voldemort around! No wonder Father hates him so! The question remains--why? Why does Voldemort need him?

"You'd do well never to correct me in front of my men again, Wormy," Voldemort said in a tone that warranted utter compliance. Pettigrew nodded humbly, but there was a tiny smirk on his face all the while.

Things were definitely peculiar in the Dark camp.

"Narcissa, love. Leave."

His mother cast him an apprehensive look before she inclined her head and left the study.

Lucius pointed his wand to the door. "Compingo."

Draco heard the door lock, and his heart beat double time.

There was no escape now.

Voldemort grinned, and Draco shuddered at the unsightliness of it. "Excellent. Now, young Draco, your assignment . . . though I very well can't explain it fully until--"

There was a pop as Snape appeared inside the study, bowing at the Dark Lord's feet. "Many apologies, my lord." Snape kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes in supplication.

"Never mind, never mind, on your feet, you. I have questions for you to answer."

Snape was the picture of serenity, and Draco couldn't help but think he was an excellent actor.

Or completely daft.

"Yes, my lord."

Voldemort started right away. "Approximately fourteen years ago there was a Dark Revel in which the Conception Ritual was performed. You were there, correct?"

"Yes."

"Pettigrew says you anointed a certain Malika with the wolfsbane, and he performed the act, correct?"

Snape appeared confused. "He did? I thought the performer was Johnson, an Auror."

Voldemort whirled towards the other man. "What?"

This was the first time Pettigrew seemed anything but confident. "Well, I used Polyjuice to do it . . ."

"You WHAT?"

"I couldn't show myself at the time, my lord. I was supposed to be dead! Black was already in Azkaban for my 'murder,' and as it was, other Death Eaters would've gladly disposed of me had I revealed myself."

"I being one of them," Snape deadpanned.

Snape, one. Pettigrew, one. Dark Lord, two. Lucius, zero.

"THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE!"

Pettigrew frowned. "Why would this make a difference anyway? She didn't conceive or else I would've felt the child's presence!"

"Why?" Snape asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Because! She had ancient magic! I have ancient magic!"

Lucius chuckled sardonically. "You're no more ancient than a baby."

White light shot out of Pettigrew's hand and hit Lucius squarely on the chest. Lucius yelped and flew back into one of the bookcases, falling on his bum with a thud. Several volumes struck his head as they dropped to the floor.

Snape, one. Pettigrew, two. Dark Lord, two. Lucius, negative three.

As he internally snickered at the scorecard, Draco remembered what Osiris/Asar told him and Ginny.

But the man with the silver hand will figure it out soon enough.

His blood ran cold. Peter Pettigrew was Set! Draco all of a sudden had an inkling of what his "role" would be.

Set would want Nia because she was Isis, but the question remained--what did Ginny have to do with any of this?

Trepidation made itself comfortable in his stomach.

"Now that you've almost killed one of the senior members of my minions, kindly explain to Snape what you mean by 'ancient magic,'" Voldemort said sarcastically.

Pettigrew narrowed his eyes. "Why should he know? He's a--"

"Very invaluable member to the cause, as you well know, Pettigrew," Snape said smoothly. "I'm the only one who has unrestricted access to Dumbledore and to Potter."

"Exactly. He should know, especially since Draco is at Hogwarts as well. They are the only two who have access to Potter, Dumbledore, and now the Weasley girl."

Dear Merlin, no!

"Forgive me, my lord. I should have known," Pettigrew said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "But I think it should be brought to your attention that Malika's body was not anointed in wolfsbane."

"Excuse me?"

"The body smelled very aromatic, not like wolfsbane. It smelled like myrrh."

Voldemort turned to Snape. "Is this true?"

Draco felt very afraid for Snape at that moment. His reply could mean death.

"Well, my lord, it is entirely possible the Aurors managed to switch bottles during the skirmish. The bottle I lifted read 'wolfsbane.' Remember, Pettigrew became the Auror Johnson; who's to say he didn't do the switch before Pettigrew got to him?"

"But doesn't the potion smoke?"

"Yes, the potion smokes, but not when you give it an oil base. Wolfsbane Potion is highly poisonous, and since the goal of the Ritual was to create a life and not kill it, a basic oil had to be used to distill it."

Snape, two. Pettigrew, two. Dark Lord, two. Lucius, negative three.

Draco laughed inside. Snape was the only person there well versed in potion-making and knew no one would dare dispute him, regardless if he was telling the truth or not.

Snape was damn good.

"Speaking of which, Pettigrew, you need to explain yourself, for Snape's and the boy's sake. Your information could prove vital to their directives," Voldemort ordered.

Pettigrew remained hesitant until he shrugged and began.

"I am the god Set, here to help Voldemort secure dominion of the world, which can only be done by ridding it of Isis and Apedemak."

Snape frowned. "I am not sure I follow . . . you 'claim' to be a god?"

"I 'claim' nothing, you imbecile! I am! Did you not see what I did to Malfoy?" Pettigrew asked wildly as he thrust his hand to the unconscious older Malfoy.

"Yes, but what does this have to do with Malika?"

Pettigrew sneered. "You know very well what 'this' has to do with Malika! Didn't you date the bitch during Hogwarts?"

Draco could see a vein emerge in Snape's neck and his hands clench at his sides. Pettigrew smirked at Snape's attempt to remain in control.

Pettigrew just pressed a dangerous button.

Snape, two. Pettigrew, three. Dark Lord, two. Lucius, non-applicable.

"Weren't you friends with the very people the Dark Lord tried to kill?"

Snape, three. Pettigrew, three. Dark Lord, two. Lucius, non-applicable.

"Regardless, I'm curious myself, why this Malika girl?"

Pettigrew/Set sighed. "She was the vessel through which Isis would come."

"You mean to tell me my heir was to be a girl?"

"Yes."

"You lied to me."

"I didn't lie per--"

"Crucio!"

Snape, three. Pettigrew, three. Dark Lord, three. Lucius, non-applicable.

"You thought me to come back a woman?"

"But Isis is the most powerful goddess in the world!" Pettigrew gasped.

"But she's a woman!"

"Well spotted," Draco heard Snape mutter. Draco resumed biting his tongue.

"Yes, she is--"

"And if you are trying to rid the world of Isis and Apedemak, why on earth would you want me to return in something you mean to destroy?"

Draco masked his laugh in a cough.

Snape, three. Pettigrew, three. Dark Lord, four. Lucius, non-applicable.

"She would've been bred in our ways, having Isis as an ally would all but secure our victory over Potter and any other enemy who dares to stand in our way."

Voldemort stopped the curse as he pondered the thought.

"Go on . . ."

"This is why we need the Weasley girl! She is the new Isis!"

"How is that possible if the Malika girl was the vessel?"

"My lord, as I said, I could not feel the woman grow a seed inside of her. All of the ancient gods are connected, especially if we create a child together. Since I felt no such connection, reason leads me to believe she did not conceive."

"Then find her again!"

Snape spoke this time. "I have it on good authority she is dead, my lord."

"And how do you know this?"

"I accompanied Dumbledore to her funeral."

Voldemort frowned. "How long ago was this?"

"Four years ago, my lord."

"Four years ago, I was still a floating spirit, a ripe time for you or anyone else to try the Ritual again! Why did this not happen?"

"I was Scabbers at the time," Pettigrew said with a shudder. "I'd left the body. Why would I want to be a mouse for all that time?"

"Your excuse?" Voldemort asked of Snape.

"The Chamber had been opened."

Voldemort cast a disgusted look in Malfoy senior's direction and rolled his pupil-less eyes. "What a debacle that was."

Draco smirked. Snape, three. Pettigrew, three. Dark Lord, five. Lucius, non-applicable.

"But by that point it wouldn't matter. Virginia Weasley had the diary; she opened it and was able to use it. Only those worthy could do that; she already had the ancient magic; she was already Isis."

"I don't understand; Miss Weasley was already born by the time the Conception Ritual happened. How could Malika be the vessel if the reincarnate was already born?" Snape asked. It was then Pettigrew looked truly stumped and became angry.

Snape, four. Pettigrew, three. Dark Lord, five. Lucius, non-applicable.

"You tell me how the gods work?! I was right about Malika, and I'm right about her not conceiving."

Snape would not be swayed. "You may be right about Malika, but about her conceiving, you are not."

Pettigrew and Voldemort looked at each other with confusion, and Snape gave a tiny smirk.

"In order for Polyjuice Potion to work, more than just the outward appearance must change. The entire DNA composition changes in order for the transformation to complete, which means that the original body's DNA recomposes itself to the target shape--be it animal or human."

Damn.

"NO!"

Snape tried his very best not to look smug. "Yes, Pettigrew, Set, whoever you are. Since you inhabited Pettigrew's body originally, your essence had been integrated into Pettigrew's DNA. Once you took the Polyjuice Potion, your essence was erased. Only Pettigrew's mind remained--the mind that existed before you took over his body."

"NOO!"

"So you see," Snape continued, looking at his hands in a bored fashion, "even if Malika had conceived, you would be none the wiser, because the child she might have carried would biologically be Caleb Johnson's, not yours."

Brilliant! Bloody brilliant!

"IMPOSSIBLE!"

Snape looked at Pettigrew head on. "On the contrary. It is possible. In fact, it is the only scenario that makes sense."

"Are you saying," Voldemort asked quietly, "Malika did conceive?"

"There is no record of that being the case."

"Blast the record! I wouldn't be here if Isis wasn't!"

"I'm not a god, so I wouldn't know," Snape said dryly.

Pettigrew huffed in indignation. "She lives, and I will not rest until I find her. In the meantime, I still want the Weasley girl!"

"Why?"

Three pairs of eyes snapped towards him; they clearly forgot Draco was still present.

"I do the asking, Malfoy!" Voldemort sneered.

"Apologies, my lord."

"But since you are the person who will secure her to me, I will tell you--the Weasley girl is necessary to get Potter."

Draco closed his eyes so Voldemort couldn't see him rolling them. "But Little Weasel is not Isis!"

Dead silence.

That was absolutely the worst thing I could've said!

Snape's black eyes burned a hole through him with fury.

"Oh? How do you know this, boy?" Pettigrew asked, walking closer to him.

Think fast, Draco.

"Professor said she was born before the Conception Ritual or whatever occurred, therefore Little Weasel could not be Isis if this Malika lady was the vessel."

Pettigrew looked at him for a long time before he smiled unpleasantly. "That may be true, but I still want her."

"But why?"

"Three times ancient magic has been used, and two of the three times registered the same magical wavelength. This little discussion has cleared up many of my questions as to why. Both Isis and Nephthys are here. The first wavelength was from Isis and the last two from Nephthys. If the Weasley girl is not Isis, she must be Nephthys."

"What does that mean?" Voldemort asked.

"This means I'll be reunited with my wife. And this time, she will not forsake me."